Original
by demena4president
Summary: Selena Russo is struggling. Her manager is trying to control everything, and she can't seem to be herself for her fans. Will talking to the equally popular Demi Torres help her see that she can stay strong, and maybe even fall in love? Or will the temptation to give in and become something that she's not take over? For all those inspiring Demena writers out there! Love you all!


_"Just stick what you're good at." He growls at me, and throws me the mic. _

_ But what if I don't want to? _

The crowds are screaming my name. "Selena! Selena! Selena!"

I put on my best smile and run out on stage. The screams get wilder and louder.

"Thank you for coming!" I yell out to everyone, then the background music for my song Slow Down starts and I start the dance routine.

I miss the times when this was all for fun. The times when I could slip and fall onstage and laugh about it, the times when I wasn't bombarded by fans at every turn. I'm just another girl, but no one seems to get that. It's like when your a celebrity you aren't allowed to live your life, you have to stick with what other people will like.

Oh! Oh! Can we take it nice and slow? Slow? Break it down and drop it low. Low.

Cuz I just want to party all night in the neon lights 'til you can't let me go!

I wink at the fans while twirling. The choreography is supposed to make me different from other people, but I can't seem to understand why. Why can't I be different by just being me?

Slow down the song!

My voice cracks a little as I realize that I wasn't doing the dance move I was supposed to. I improvise quickly, and move my one free hand in a wavy move that I learned back when I was just getting into dancing.

I can tell the background dancers are confused, but lucky for me they're professionals, and just go with it. Now I'm back in the routine.

If you want me I'm accepting applications.

As long as we can keep this record on rotation.

You know I'm good with mouth to mouth resesitation.

Breathe me in, breathe me out, so amazing.

I blow the audience a kiss while continuing to sing. This whole facade I have to put up every show is really sickening me. I wish I could be singing songs that are more meaningful, like the songs I've written down. I have a whole drawer full of songs that my manager told me to throw away, because they weren't good enough for my fanbase.

"_No one's going to like those. They belong in the garbage!" Gary had spat, crumpling the lyrics and throwing them onto the ground. "I have songwriters to write your songs, okay Selena? Your talent is singing, not writing. Obviously." _

Even the memory made me mad. I've only written one or two songs that actually got published, and that was because my friends in the business were able to help me record them and sneak them onto the album.

I shuddered, remembering how Gary had reacted. He has major anger issues, and it's not a good idea to be aroudn him when he's in a rage.

Breathe me in, Breathe me out

The music's got me going

Breathe me in, breathe me out

No stop until the morning

Breathe me in, breathe me out

You know I'm ready for it, for it, for it,

Yeah!

I swished my head back and forth, my hair flying behind me. Even _that _had to be fake. Well, it wasn't that long anyways. Gary said I needed extensions because I didn't look pretty enough with short hair.

He had gone so far as to call me hideous before, and when I started crying he told me to suck it up.

My Mom was in a different state right now, as I had told her that I didn't want her to have to deal with all the drama of managing a celebrity a while ago, so she let Gary take over. He had been with us before, but he hadn't been in so much control. Now he's like my ruler, and I have to do everything he says.

Oh oh oh oh

Yeah, baby, slow down the song

Oh oh oh oh

Yeah, baby, slow down the song

That was the last song of the night. I wipe the sweat off my forehead and smile at the crowd. After saying a short goodnight, I make my way to the back where some people help me get my outfit off.

My phone buzzes and I check it._ How did your concert go? _It was Mom!

_Good. A small mess up on the last one, but otherwise I really enjoyed it. _I replied.

Mom doesn't know about Gary and his... ways. She thinks I'm having the time of my life.

"Selena!" The gravelly voice comes from my left and I wince. Here Gary comes.

"Yes?" I turn and face him. You probably think I'm talking about a bald, short, fat guy with crazy eyes.

No, Gary is actually three inches taller than me, tan, muscular and overall very handsome. He has black hair and his brown eyes are very kind. Too bad _he's _not kind.

"What happened up there during Slow Down? You totally screwed up!"

"It was fine. I got a little distracted, but nothing bad happened. I won't do it again."

He narrowed his eyes at me. "Why don't you seem to see how serious that was? It's very important that you do not allow yourself to let things go like this! Is this all a big joke to you? Do you want to end up on ebay, selling all of your stuff?"

Yeah, he's always been a bit overdramatic.

"No, Gary." I bow my head, pretending to be remorseful. After being an actor for so long, it's not hard to put on an act. Oh, that was a really bad pun.

"Good." He growls, then starts away.

Usually I would hang back and talk with some of my fans, sign some autographs, take some pictures... that kind of thing. But tonight I was tired, and we hadn't offered backstage passes to this concert so I could go straight home.

I called for my limo, but only to distract the paparrazi. I tucked my hair into a baseball cap, pulled on some sweats and a baggy t-shirt, and took off across the parking lot in a quick walk.

Usually I would be wearing sunglasses, but as it was around 9 at night, it would be obvious that somthing was going on if I did wear them. I had washed off all my makeup, too.

The white, beat up car is waiting for me, just as promised. They always provide a different one so the paparazzi don't have something familiar to look for. The keys, as always, are in the pipe thing in the back.

I start the car and get into traffic. No one is giving me a second glance. I kind of wish they would leave me alone as Selena Russo sometimes too, instead of just ignoring me as the random stranger in the ugly car.

My hotel room is my home at the moment. Tomorrow I get to go watch another person preform and then I'll be headed somewhere else to preform.

But for now, it's time to sleep.

I wake up to a pounding at my door. "Selena, hurry up! It's four o' clock in the afternoon, we're going to be late to the concert!"

Wow, I haven't slept in this late in years. "I'll be right there."

I throw on a pair of shorts and a Dream Out Loud Tee, then brush my teeth and curl my hair at the same time. As a finishing touch, I run some mascara over my eyelashes and apply my trademark lipstick.

"Selena!"

"I'm coming!" I grab my phone and run out the door. Gary and I hurry down to the limo, and I try to ignore the flashes of light that are surrounding me, thanks to the papparazi.

"Selena, is it true that you are quitting your carreer next year?"

"Hey, Selena, is Stars Dance your last album?"

"Can we get a few pictures?"

Gary ushered me into the car and followed quickly behind, not waiting for me to attempt to persuade the paparazzie to leave me alone. Then we were off to a concert.

The whole reason I have to go is because Gary thinks that if I watch the other person perform and talk with them, than I will think worse of myself and want to improve.

Personally, I'm dreading the whole thing. I don't even know who I'm going to be watching.

Before we get out, I put my hood up and some sunglasses on. Then we get out of the car and Gary takes my arm.

He leads me to the front row and we sit down. Hey, being a celebrity has it's perks. For instance, I get amazing seats.

Almost as soon as we sit down, the performance starts. Through the whole thing, my mouth is on the floor. This girl has talent.

Her vocals are perfect, sometimes she plays with her song, and she's one of the most beautiful girls I've ever seen. I knew Demi Torres was pretty, but the last time I saw her was in a gossip magazine a couple years back. We've never really talked, and honestly, I've always considered her as competition.

But now I see that there was no point, because she is _way _better than me.

Shoot, I think Gary's plan is working.

I remember that we have backstage passes, and my heart stops. How am I supposed to face the girl who's competing with me?

And worse, the girl who's most likely winning.

"Wow, she is so much better than me." I tell Gary as she sings her song 'Shouldn't Come Back.'

"Don't get ahead of yourself, you two have practically the exact same amount of fans. But there's definately room for improvement that Demi might be able to help you with."

I raise my eyebrow. That's one of the nicest things I've ever heard him say.

The concert is finally, regretably over. Now I have to go talk to her.

Gary steers me over so we're the first one's there. A couple of girls are giggling behind us, and I smile, remembering being star struck myself.

Demi comes around the corner, and my breath catches in my throat. She's wearing a plain t-shirt and some jeans, obviously dressed down from the concert. I bite my tongue; Gary _never _lets me dress down unless I'm trying to disguise myself.

"Hi! I'm Demi." She holds out her hand to me, brown eyes sparkling with laughter. What is she laughing at?

I take off my sunglasses and pull down my hood. "I'm Selena."

The giggles behind us turn into screams and cheers of delight. Security hustles over and makes the gathering crowd behind us back off.

"Selena Russo?" Demi looks startled for a bit, and then she gets back her cool. "I suppose we should talk in private. Let me take care of all this and I'll get back to you." She gestures towards the crowd and grins wryly. "Just head back and tell them I sent you."

I nod, and Gary ushers me further backstage. When the attendants hear our story, they lead me to a door and let me in, then leave. Gary goes with them in search of a snack.

"Woah." As soon as I go in, I'm assaulted by colors. Huge words are printed all over the room in large handwriting.

_LIfe is too short. _

_ Live today, because you might not have tomorrow. _

_ Don't say no until you know you can't say yes. _

There was a more, too. The ceiling had a bunch of CD cases, movies, pictures, and magazines stapled to it. At a glance, I noticed they were all things she had starred in, sung in, or talked in.

A fluffy couch and a white recliner were located towards the back of the room. In the front was a mirror on a desk, like a makeshift area for makeup. Different outfits were strewn everywhere, and a stack of signed photographs had fallen over off of the desk and were splayed on the floor.

I sat on one side of the couch and gaped at it all. It only took Demi twenty minutes to appear.

"So... Selena Russo." The popstar took a seat next to me. "Why are you here?"

"My manager sent me. He thinks you could help me... improve." I force out the last word.

Demi see's my discomfort and smiles softly. "Why? You're amazing. I've seen you preform. I can't dance like that."

"I think he meant on singing."

"Well everyone has their own technique..."

Something about this girl opens up my heart, and suddenly I'm telling her things I haven't even told my own mother.

"...and I don't have my own technique. My manager handles that. He handles everything about my life, personal and business." I finish, tears threatening to leak.

She looks concerned. "Selena, he doesn't seem like a very good manager."

"I can't just fire him, I would have no other place to go." I throw my hands up in surrender.

"Stay strong." She shows me the words on her wrists. "Stay strong."


End file.
